Plagium (Keepers Book 1)

Chapter 9 - In Which The Group is Starrstruck

Tracey trailed behind the group as she took a moment to herself. Things were finally looking up, and it appeared as if she found a group willing enough to help her in her search. Well, she thought, not including Mr. Berkley. She fished into her pocket and pulled out Mr. Porter's spectacles and ring. It was nearly impossible for him to have reached two distant locations so quickly, and yet both were undeniably his own. She studied the carriages in the street beside herself, watching as an occasional steam car sped in the distance, after which leaving panicking horses and fleeing pedestrians. She shuddered. I hope none of those machines come close to here. She somberly thought as she safely secured the spectacles and ring back into her pocket.

Tracey quickened her pace to catch up to Mittie. "Mittie?" she inquired as she finally fell into step with Mittie's brisk walk. Mittie turned to her, her eyes beaming with excitement.

"Can ya believe it?" she squealed. "We're going to meet Jon Starr! The Jon Starr!"

"Yes, ah, about that...," Tracey slowly replied.

"Somethin' the matter, Trace?"

Tracey hesitated, her hand touching the embroidered handkerchief. Mittie glanced at the pocket before fixing her inquisitive gaze back to Tracey. Dare she say anything about the handkerchief? After all, she thought, this is my only solid lead, and I don't know anyone very well... "No, nevermind," she finally said. Mittie frowned. "Actually, yes!" Tracey quickly corrected. "Do you think that he will have us for tea? I know he may be busy, but I am rather curious about this man."

"Oh!" Mittie said, her eyes brightening again. "If ya were embarrassed ta say so, don't be! l don't mind talkin' 'bout 'im. I hope he does! I can only imagine Reggie's reaction when I tell 'im I met Jon Starr 'himself!"

"Reggie?"

"Oh, yes, I don't think I told ya 'bout Reggie, huh? Suppose we've only met each other a couple a' hours ago anyways." Mittie said, blinking. "Reggie—or Reginald—is my beau. I had stopped here in Mondon to pick up some supplies before I sail off to meet 'im on the southern coast. Never thought I'd stop here longer than a half-day or so, but he'd understand. He's a big fan of Jon too, ya know; he was the one who got me into his acting in th' first place."

"Oh! I see," Tracey said with a nod.

"Say, Trace, do you have a beau?"

"M-me?" she squeaked. "I-I've never thought much about dating—."

"Ah, no worries, I see I took ya off guard there," Mittie amiably said with a bump to Tracey's shoulder. "Looks like we've reached Mr. Starr's home!" she said, looking up and pointing to a prominent apartment ahead.

It wasn't the towering windows, nor grand staircase that made the apartment so prominent. Nor was it the fact that it was a full story taller than the surrounding buildings. Nor was it its trees that flanked the front nor ivy that climbed the facade. And not even the fact that this starkly baby blue home stood on its own large property, with the surrounding beige apartments looking cramped and dark in comparison. No, for it was what sat glittering in its driveway, sitting dormant as if it were waiting to roar to life. "A steam car!" Tracey gasped.